


A System

by pron



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alpha!Kylo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega!Hux, Tfa kinkmeme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:18:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6687028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pron/pseuds/pron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Kylo Ren helped Hux and one time that Hux showed his trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A System

**Author's Note:**

> For this post on the kink meme:  
> https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3467.html?thread=5936523#cmt5936523

1.

The General of the First Order is an Omega, something Kylo Ren would not have believed if he hadn't met the man in person.

 

He was tall, just a tad shorter than Ren himself, and carried himself strongly, just like any Alpha would. But that was the end of the list of Alpha-like traits. Even General Hux's face was slightly softened due to his nature. His hips flared out slightly, well hidden by his choice of clothing, well hidden by the sleek uniforms of the First Order.

 

And that _scent_ —it was possibly the sweetest thing Ren had smelled in years.

 

General Hux of the First Order was an unmated Omega.

 

It was the most ridiculous fanfare Ren had ever seen at galas. Strange Alphas and even bold Betas would try to chat up the man, hoping for something lasting to form, pressing kisses to soft hands, hands that had killed billions.

 

“You look ridiculous.” Hux's cheeks were already flushed from the alcohol he'd been drinking. He never did know when to stop, a bad habit kept from Academy days.

 

Ren scowled. He felt ridiculous too, without his mask. The black, moody outfit, however, fit him splendidly, clinging to broad shoulders and narrow hips. “You're one to talk.”

 

Hux had been dressed like any other unmated Omega—a white military style shirt that showed off his narrow chest and pants that ballooned around his hips, making them appear wider and more ready for child-bearing. He would soon be approaching the point in his life where he would be expected to have a litter or two.

 

Hux flushed a brighter red, unable to stop his full-body blush.

 

“Careful Ren,” he hissed.

 

Before Hux could say more, Ren interrupted. “There is an Admiral who is staring at you in a disgusting manner,” he said. He could also hear the Admiral's thoughts. Filthy things, coming from a man nearly Hux Sr's age.

 

“I am aware.”

 

Ren dipped into Hux's mind: frustration, annoyance, and, behind it all, a small amount of fear. “General,” said Ren. “Would you give me the honor of this dance?” He bowed low, looking deep into Hux's forest green eyes.

 

A small smile appeared on Hux's face for just a moment before it was suppressed by his calm, cool mask. His hand, fingers so cold, reached out and took Ren's. “Gladly.”

 

The Admiral was distracted afterwards, easily finding a new unmated Omega that suited his fancy, thoughts of Hux dashed from his mind. Ren, leading Hux slowly, smirked. The Admiral did not recognize the Knight.

 

2.

“You're going into heat,” muttered Ren, brushing past the General on the bridge. It was too obvious. The General's cheeks were flushed red and the scent that wafted from him was overpowering. The General very nearly swayed where he stood, scent glands reddened and slightly swollen just underneath that high collar of his.

 

“I am aware,” said Hux, lips pressed together thinly. “But there is still work left to do.” The workaholic would rather be struck down where he stood than miss a day of work.

 

“You cannot hope to get much _work_ done in this state,” said Ren. “You'll soon be irresistible to every horny Alpha present.”

 

And there would be quite a few.

 

The General was the only omega present on the Finalizer. He was possibly the only omega in the First Order's high command, something extremely unlikely. Already, upon smelling the scent so freely given, officers adjusted their collars, pushing back their ruts.

 

Hux scowled, no words managing to escape this time.

 

Ren sighed. “Impossible,” he complained underneath his breath as he reached out through the Force. He clamped down on that small part of Hux that desired nothing more but to kneel down and allow himself to be taken. The sweet smell of Hux's weakness withered and died.

 

Ren nearly whimpered at the loss.

 

“There,” Ren said. “You have three hours. Use them, General.”

 

A bead of sweat dripped down Hux's brow. He nodded. Ren liked to think he saw gratefulness in those proud eyes. How had he hoped to survive a meeting in such a state?

 

Ren walks away, booted feet striking the ground too hard.

 

3.

 

Hux took his allotted time for his heat once every three months. His doors were reinforced, so that no scent could trickle out and cloud an officer or—even worse—a Stormtrooper's mind.

 

And yet still, Ren could feel the gears turn in Hux's mind.

 

The shivers that wracked his body, the slick that pooled between his thighs.

 

Heats spent with no Alpha were nearly painful for Omegas. It was a common enough fact, regardless of one's education level. Feeling just what drifted from Hux's body, random sensation, a feverish whirl, Ren could only imagine how it truly felt.

 

He did not risk visiting Hux in person; the Omega, in this mind-altering state, would likely kneel and bare his throat, begging for his knot.

 

Ren did not want that.

 

Instead, he sent his mind, bringing Hux into the darkness of unconsciousness, relieving him of this unnecessary pain.

 

He looked to his grandfather's burnt up helmet.

 

“Send me guidance,” he muttered, “grandfather.” For Ren was no longer sure of the proper way to court an Omega.

 

4.

 

The planet that they landed on was deplorable.

 

Hux knew not to cover his nose and yet he nearly did so, the stench of foul Alphas reaching him and nearly overloading his sensations. Once again, he was all dolled up, just like an unmated Omega.

 

“Remind me,” Ren said, looking to Hux, skin flushed so early on in the day, “why are we on this forsaken planet once again?”

 

“Resources,” Hux said. His voice was weak, almost feeble. It had always been so soft, even during those grandiose speeches of his—how had he commanded thousands of men?. “After our string of losses, we need to consider our supplies and feeding our people.”

 

Ren fell silent for the moment. His face felt so bare without the mask.

 

Already, the native Alphas of the desert-city took notice of Hux, raising grimy faces from various white tents. Ren had sensed the few Omegas—those that were taken and those that worked for local whore houses. Hux was an enigma to them.

 

“Take my cloak,” Ren said, pulling it off, over his head.

 

Without waiting for an answer, or a signal of Hux's understanding, Ren draped the thing over his shoulders.

 

“What are you doing?” Hux still asked. His mind was fuzzy; the feedback was confused and looped in places.

 

“Covering you in an Alpha's scent,” he muttered.

 

An Alpha, one with short, muddy hair and a scar that covered half his face, met Ren's eyes and looked away, filthy thoughts about the Omega fading.

 

The only designation these people respected was Alphas.

 

5.

 

“Lord Ren.” Hux approached him, dressed in the attire of an Omega that he so hated. Annoyance and apprehension rolled off of him.

 

Ren turned from the training droid. The robot crumpled to the ground, turned off, likely through the Force. “General,” he greeted. Ren was dressed in no more but a thin tank-top and sweatpants that hung low on narrow hips.

 

Hux cleared his throat, cheeks pink. “My father is holding a gala once again and it is expected for me to come with an Alpha.”

 

The silence was tense. Hux could maintain eye contact, but it was still awkward. He forced himself to be still, limbs tense and straight.

 

“And you are inviting me as your date?” Ren asked, grin cocky.

 

Hux scoffed, turned around and began to walk.

 

Ren sprung to his feet and within a few, quick strides, he was beside Hux. “What ever did happen to Phasma?” he asked. Phasma had been Hux's first choice as a date for the gala, an Alpha and completely uninterested in Hux.

 

“She found herself a different date,” Hux said, hating Ren.

 

Ren skipped his mind—Phasma's date, a Beta and a woman.

 

“When is the gala?” Ren said and nearly laughed when Hux gritted his teeth.

 

“The transport will arrive shortly,” said Hux. Which only made Phasma's _treason—_ at least in Hux's eyes—more treacherous.

 

Ren looped his arm through Hux's own and began to lead him to his quarters. “Well then, General, I have limited time to make myself look pretty for you.”

 

Hux again scoffed. Ren was insufferable.

 

+1.

 

Hux had not asked in person, either too sure of himself or too unsure. Ren woke up to an alert on his holopad: half of a consent form already filled out, forwarded from the General himself.

 

_Lord Ren, please have a look at the attached document. If interested, please fill out the section left for the Alpha in question._

 

_–H_

 

And if that hadn't piqued his curiosity, nothing ever would

 

It was a simple document, arranged to prevent one party from having excessive power over the other. In it, Hux clearly marked things he consented to and marked those that he did not. Having an official form for it was not unusual in the First Order, especially when an Omega was involved.

 

It had been a while since Ren actually saw one of them though.

 

The list was extensive.

 

No to bonding, no to marking, no to anything to do with defecation or urination, no to a lot of things.

 

Ren chuckled, continuing down the list, sure to remember the rules.

 

There was one that was not in the preprinted list. Instead, it had been typed into the comments section: _You can forget about using the Force during sexual activities._

 

He smiled to himself. He had not even thought of it.

 


End file.
